


Colours of the Evening Stars

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Future Fic, Get Together, M/M, NHL Chowder, Teacher Nursey, meet cute, parent Chowder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 13:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10968093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Stranger things have happened to Derek Nurse than looking down to see a small, lost child attached to his hand.  But he was wholly unprepared for what was going to come next, when the parent of said lost child happens to be NHL Sharks Goalie, Christopher Chow.





	Colours of the Evening Stars

**Author's Note:**

> All I have to say is that I love NurseyChowder with my entire soul and I would die for this ship. Also I'm not sure if they have a ship name but I feel like since I'm not on tumblr anymore it doesn't matter? Anyway this is just fluff and nonsense so please enjoy.
> 
> Be warned for toddler-levels of poop humour.
> 
> Also a special thank you to Serra (as usual, what's new) for loving this ship with me and letting me blabber on DM all the time always about how much I love these two.

If you cut me I suppose I would bleed the colors  
of the evening stars.  
my darling  
You can go anywhere you wish 'cause I'll be there, wherever you are.  
my darling  
-Owl City

*** 

Stranger things have happened to Derek Nurse than this. Like the guy who just started stripping in the middle of Target. Or the person wearing half a bear costume in IKEA. Or the bro with the Wizard of Oz style bicycle and a little dog in a basket cruising inside Bed Bath and Beyond.

But it’s still a strange moment as he’s pushing a paper bag full of freshly ground coffee into his trolley when a tiny hand falls into his. He blinks down at a small girl with black hair in pigtails, dark brown eyes, and a wide grin which shows dimples in her chubby cheeks.

“Uh. Are you lost?” he asks.

She nods.

“Okay?”

So logic tells him like three things all at once. The first, find some parents who are probably pretty frantic. Two, find some employee who is like…trained to help reunite lost kids with parents. And three stay in once place because his moms drilled that into his head from the moment he could walk on his own—if you ever get lost, don’t leave the spot you’re in, and flag down a grown-up.

So maybe that’s what this kid is doing because fuck…he’s that grown-up.

Shit.

“Uh. So. I’m Derek,” he says.

“Kay,” the small child responds, and he’s not entirely sure if she means okay, or if that’s her name. And well, he’s a stranger and he doesn’t think he looks like the most responsible adult because well—sleeve tats, septum ring, a beanie that looks like shit because his roommate keeps putting it into the fucking washer.

But he’s also not some child kidnapper or some shit so at least _he_ knows he’s a safe dude. 

He also realises it’s been like a solid three minutes and this kid is holding his hand with that little grin and hasn’t moved. “Um. Do you want some gum?” he blurts. Then, “Shit wait no. Like…don’t take candy from strangers.” Then, “I’m a stranger.”

Then he braces himself for her to maybe start crying, but she doesn’t. She just keep watching him with her sharp gaze and tiny smile.

Then she shifts her feet back and forth and her shoes squeak, and he jumps a little. “Oh my god. Did your shoes squeak?”

“Yep,” she says. Then to demonstrate, she lets his hand go and kind of hops in a circle, giggling, her pigtails flopping and her bright purple bobbles shining under the ugly fluorescent lights.

It’s hard not to start laughing because what the fuck, squeaky shoes? And her little laugh—and okay he’s never been the most like…kid guy but…

His thoughts cut off when a tall, gangly looking guy with black hair and dark eyes, and a blue Shark’s hoodie comes hurtling round the corner and basically slides on his knees at her and she laughs and throws herself in his arms as he breathes out.

After what feels like an awkward forever, the guy looks up at Nursey and it suddenly hits him like a freight-train because he lives here and he _knows_ who this guy is. The guy giving Carey Price a fucking run for his money in stats and prestige.

NHL Goalie, Christopher Chow.

He basically forgets how lips and tongues work as Chow stands up with the little girl on his hip, and he’s pink in the cheeks and breathing way heavier than Nursey’s ever seen. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry but also thank you! She’s been so bad at this recently. I swear I just bent down to try and find those darn go-gurts because they were like…totally out? And I turn around and she’s managed to get out of the trolley and she’s gone and I just…” He seems to realise he’s babbling and he blushes more and stops. “Thanks,” he mutters.

“No worries, man. It’s chill,” and Nursey knows he sounds like one of those douches trying to sound chill when really they’re just a series of exclamation marks on the inside, but holy shit this is Chris Chow and he’s had a crush on him for basically forever. “She was really like…super quiet and didn’t cry or anything.”

“Yeah,” Chow says, like that’s a bad thing with a heavy sigh and everything. “She does that.”

Nursey raises a brow at her, then offers her a fist-bump. “She totally didn’t give any info away though. Like she’d be an amazing super spy.”

The little girl giggles and fist-bumps him, then says, “Baba likes it.”

Nursey raises his eyebrow. “Uhh, likes what?”

“Butts,” she says, then giggles into Chow’s neck and Chow is basically like a lobster at this point, and Nursey can’t help his own laugh.

“Dude, she’s going to murder you.”

Chow rubs a hand down his face and groans. “I know. Believe me. Um…but thanks again. I’m Chris, by the way.”

He’s barely able to restrain a, ‘I know,’ and holds out his fist again for another bump, this one to Chris. “Derek.” 

He glances round, then at Derek’s pathetic trolley consisting of coffee and pre-packed pasta, and then says, “Can I buy you a coffee? To say thanks. I promised Gracie a Unicorn Frappuccino because I’m obviously trying to win a worst father of the year award. And anyway the app said they have them at the Starbucks over there,” he nods vaguely toward the exit.”

Nursey should say no because he knows that Chow just got over a messy divorce—he watches TMZ sometimes, whatever, sue him…plus it was trending on Twitter for like 10 days straight because Chow is hot and now, apparently, available. And shopping at his local WholeFoods. Shit.

But also he can’t say no because it’s Chris freaking Chow and who the hell says no?

Except cis-het phobic dicks who also write those bi-phobic messages on Chris’ twitter but…well, fuck those guys. They’re always phobic shitheads anyway.

“Uh yeah,” he says when he realises it’s been a full forty-five seconds and he hasn’t said anything at all. “Can I…I should buy my stuff and then um?”

“Meet you?” Chow offers.

Nursey nods. “Yeah. Chill. I’ll be done in a few.”

Chow nods and blushes again a little bit, and he whispers something at his kid which makes her giggle. Then she’s on the floor again and the squeaking sounds through the aisle, like _peep peep peep peep_ and goddamn if it isn’t still cute.

Nursey ends up buying a bunch of crap he doesn’t need because he wants to look like he was there for an actual reason but he can’t think straight because they keep bumping into each other and Gracie keeps giggling, and Chow keeps blushing and damn.

Damn.

He checks out way over budget because he’s trash, and then he throws all his groceries into the boot of his car, then races to Starbucks because he wants at least three minutes to gather himself before the father-daughter duo arrives to further fuck his life into oblivion.

They show up four minutes later, and Nursey can breathe again.

Gracie gets her small Unicorn Frap which looks like pixie vomit or something, and smells even worse because who the fuck combines mango and vanilla and sour powder? But she seems happy, kicking her small feet on the chair and humming a little song to herself that Nursey vaguely recognises from Moana.

He’s got his English Breakfast Tea Latte because if he orders anything with more caffeine he’s going to jump out of his skin, and Chow has some ice tea thing and a cake pop which he’s sharing with Gracie. “Her mom’s probably going to kill me. I know someone is instagram’ing this but I only get her my one free Saturday a month until the off season and I just…” He looks really damn sad then, and Nursey doesn’t even know the guy but he wants to hug him.

“That…I can’t even imagine how much that sucks,” he offers, and what a crappy thing to say, but it makes Chow smile anyway. “She seems to like spending time with you.”

“It’s the sugar,” Chow says mournfully.

To which Gracie opens her mouth and replies, “Poopy!”

“Poop and butts,” Nursey says with a shrug. “Sounds about right.”

“Poops an butts!” she cries.

“Sorry,” Nursey says, but he’s kind of smiling, and Chow’s fighting back his own grin.

“So what do you do?”

“Oh uh,” Nursey says, and feels a blush rising on his cheeks. “I’m just like…a teacher, I guess?”

“You…guess?”

He realises he sounds like a complete jack-ass which makes what he’s about to say even worse. “Literature?” It comes out like a question and he barely stops himself from smacking himself on the forehead. He shifts instead, and cracks his knee on the table, then nearly tips his chair backward trying to get away from the table leg. Chow is losing his battle with the smile, but Nursey just carries on anyway because he’s always been a disaster. “I uh, I teach lit, at the high school. And I run a creative writing class down at the community centre for people who can’t really afford the whole college thing, you know. I'm just kind of hoping I can help inspire them. Like...even if they hate writing, maybe it'll inspire them to search out what they really want to do.” He laughs, feeling kind of embarrassed, and rubs the back of his neck as he glances away.

Chow softens a little at that, and his smile is more genuine instead of chirping. “Oh. That’s…actually really great. I um…I was in college and I had some really great professors who almost made me re-think my career.” He hesitates, and his cheeks pink again and then he says, “I play hockey.”

And this time, no matter how he might have wanted to try, he can’t stop himself. “Dude ch’yeah. I kind of already knew that?”

Chow actually looks a little disappointed, even if he’s smiling again. “Oh um. So you’re a fan?”

“I wanna…baba I wanna…um. Skate,” Gracie pipes up. Then she pulls a piece of the cake pop frosting off and throws it at him and giggles. “And eat poopy.”

Chow sighs. “They tell me this age gets better, but I’m not sure I believe anyone.”

Nursey snickers. “No idea, man. I was the youngest and both my moms’ families live overseas so I was always the baby of the family. I probably had the poop phase and I think I turned out mostly okay.”

Chow snickers and says, “Mostly,” but he looks at Nursey fondly which makes Nursey’s pulse race and makes Nursey regret having any caffeine at all at this point. Before either of them can say anything, Chow’s phone rings and he scrambles for it and looks a little put off as he holds up a finger and answers. “Hey. Yeah, we’re just um…mmhmm. Yeah. Starbucks. Yeah that one by WholeFoods. Sure we can wait here. No worries. Okay see you soon.” He ends the call then gives Nursey the most apologetic look Nursey has ever seen on a guy and says, “So it might get a little awkward in five minutes because my ex is about to pull up to pick Gracie up.”

“Oh uh. Should I like…” Nursey thumbs behind his shoulder, and Chow looks a little…put off by it.

“You can…I mean if you want, you can stay? I wouldn’t mind um…chatting more.” And he looks shy as hell, about as shy as Nursey feels inside, and there’s no goddamn way Nursey’s about to turn that down. Because being star struck has long-since worn off and now it’s just kind of nice. And sweet. Like a first date, even if he’s terrified to make that assumption.

“Actually that sounds really nice because my roommate has this dude over who smells like he goes fishing inside oyster bar dumpsters and like…I try not to judge the guy but I can’t take it for more than five minutes at a time.”

Chris puts his hand over his mouth and giggles. “That’s…pretty terrible. I think you’re brave just for those five minutes.”

Nursey wants to cry a little, but then Gracie decides to upend the rest of her Frap all over the table, so they’re up and scrambling for napkins as she giggles and pushes her hands in what’s left of the pinkish-blueish whipped cream. Chris is sighing and scolding her, but lightly, like he’s afraid to make her cry, and Nursey has no idea what parenting is actually like so he just smiles at them and helps tidy things up.

Then a big, black SUV arrives and Chris’ ex wife gets out. And she looks nice enough. Tall, buff, brown hair, dark eyes, that sort of beachy-red tan that white people get when they spend a lot of time outside baking skin that was not meant to produce that much melanin. He remembers she’s done beach volley ball for the Olympics, which makes her physique make sense because damn, girl has some _arms_ and although she sees her ex husband and kid sat with some tatted up stranger, she doesn’t look alarmed.

On the contrary, she waggles her eyebrows as she swoops up and only slightly sticky Gracie and then turns to introduce herself. “I’m Caitlyn.”

“I’m Derek,” he offers, and her hands are full so he doesn’t bother with a fist bump or shake.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she says, innuendo in her voice, and Chris actually does slap a hand over his face.

“Oh my god. I’m going to get Gracie’s things. Please don’t embarrass me,” then he turns to Nursey, “and please don’t leave?”

“Butt firmly planted,” Nursey tells him.

“Butts!” Gracie cries.

“Shit. Sorry,” he says to Caitlyn who just laughs and shakes her head.

“She’s grown up in hockey locker rooms. Trust me, if the worst she’s saying right now is butts…”

He can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. I played Collegiate hockey so…yeah. I have to figure NHL is like…way worse.”

She shrugs. “She loves it there though. I mean, as bro-y as those guys are, they love the kids that hang around.” Then she hesitates and they both look over at Chris who’s pulling stuff out of his car. “Um. Have you guys been…you know…for long?”

Nursey’s eyes widen and he startles. “Oh. God like…no.” He realises he doesn’t entirely want to sell Chris out on the whole losing their kid in the super market so he says, “The kid kind of accosted me at the store a little bit so he offered me coffee and chill.” Then he flushes hard. “Not like…coffee and _chill_ , just like…chill. Like…I’m going to shut up now because oh my god.”

She laughs again. “You’re sweet. I mean, a little weird, but not in the creepy way. I hope you guys have a nice coffee and chill.”

So he kind of wants to melt into his chair and die a little, but he manages to keep it together as Chris helps load Gracie in the car. And she cries which is all kinds of heart breaking, especially since Chris coming back looking like he just watched someone kick a puppy. But he gave the toddler kisses, then a kiss to Caitlyn’s cheek, then she’s gone and it’s the two of them.

“Sometimes I feel like the worst dad on the planet,” is what Chris says after a full minute of silence.

Nursey’s eyes widened. “Dude like…I mean I don’t know you, but that kid seems to be madly in love with you. I don’t uh…”

“It’s just,” Chris says, then laughs. “That’s so heavy to lay on someone who’s known me for all of half an hour.”

“It’s so unbelievably fine,” Nursey says, and feels bold and reaches over to touch the back of Chris’ hand. Just briefly.

Chris flushes again, but he manages a more genuine smile. “I’m so busy. I didn’t realise…I mean I should have realised, and I was warned when I got signed, that it won’t be easy. That if I made starting Goalie I was going to be more busy than I thought possible. We didn’t even mean for Grace to happen, either. I’ve never been more grateful for an unplanned anything, but I never see her and…what kind of dad does that?”

Nursey sighs, and he shakes his head because for all the shit to relate to in life, he didn’t think this would be one of them. But he does. “So one of my moms worked in PR for this super famous author that I totally can’t say because reasons. But when I was a kid, there were all these movies being made, and series being written, and book tours. And my mom was there for all of that. And the only off time she really had was when the author was busy writing—and literally she only took like two months out of the year to write. It was kind of like cobbled together holidays and birthdays over skype and shit. And I was super sad sometimes, but I also knew it made her happy. And I knew she loved the hell out of me and that she tried. And I could count on her for anything, I swear to god. Like 2 am post-break up phone calls, and care packages when I bombed tests and shit.” Nursey sighs and smiles because he loves his parents so much. “Gracie’s gonna know how much you adore her, and that’s what matters. And you have the off season and hockey isn’t forever, right?”

“Yeah,” Chris breathes. Then shakes his head and laughs. “God, I really am sorry. Just…the divorce is so fresh. And Cait and I are still such good friends which I think sometimes makes it harder. Because I see her and Gracie leaving and I think…why can’t we make it work. I mean I know why. And being together felt so much worse than being apart but…” He shrugs and flops his arms down. “I’m sad.”

“Dinner,” Nursey blurts. “Okay uh. Shit. That was so rude but…I’d like to…take you to dinner? My treat?”

“You’re a teacher. And I have literal millions,” Chris says, but not unkindly.

Derek laughs. “It’s gonna be cheap as fuck, man. But the point of feel-better food is one—it isn’t fancy. And two—you don’t have to pay. When’s the last time someone did that for you? And I don’t mean it’s someone else’s turn to pick up the bill.”

Chris bites his lip, then nods. “Okay. But it had better be cheap.”

Nursey’s grin is huge. “Cheap as _fuck_ ,” he repeats.

*** 

It’s a Ramen food truck. The recipes are as authentic as they can get—which is pretty damn authentic in Silicon Valley which has a really strong Asian presence. You can find any sort of mom and pop shop run by immigrants who have finally—in the year of our lord two-thousand-twenty-three—stopped trying to cater to white palettes as much. And it’s not exact, but this little truck has down-home recipes that the dude got from his grandparents, and it’s so good.

The Styrofoam taste of the take-away container doesn’t even really bother him much, and Chris seems to flourish under the shitty pop-up awning sat at metal tables that bite into their asses as they sit close together. The air’s a little chilly and there’s a fog off in the distance which doesn’t usually hit them so far south, but the weather’s been weird.

It’s snuggling weather.

Nursey only briefly wonders if the Universe is trying to tell him something.

Whatever.

“This is amazing,” Chris says, smiling.

Nursey laughs. “I told you. Comfort food, cheap as fuck, horrible ambiance. I know all the good spots.”

“You’ll have to show me. I’ve lived here forever, but I never had the time to really explore. I mean, when I was a kid, you know, my parents were so busy and I had about a billion things going on. Then I went off to college and then the NHL happened and I’m just…so busy.” His voice kind of drops there, like he just revealed a deep dark secret. “So busy.”

Ah. Yeah. Nursey gets what he’s trying to say. “Me too. I mean, summers are usually chill. Like…I do a couple community centre classes, but it’s my only real free time. I’m at school forever after the kids are out, and weekend I have my centre classes, and if I’m not tutoring or dealing with some pissed off white parent who’s angry because I told them they couldn’t write their kid’s final for them, I’m falling asleep on top of my marking. So yeah. I get the whole…busy thing.”

Chris’ eyes go a little wider, a little brighter with something that’s maybe like hope as he sits just a little closer. “That’s…I mean. So you…get it?”

“I get it,” Nursey breathes, very soft. “I mean, I _do_ try and make time to see my all-time favourite goalie play when I can, of course.”

Chris flushes even harder, ducks his head, but he’s grinning, and elbowing Nursey lightly as he shifts so close their thighs are pressed together, not a centimetre of space between them. “Of course,” he murmurs back.

“I like…super want to kiss you right now, but I feel like maybe PDA with some dude with a nose ring won’t be great for your image and PR and shit so…”

Nursey stops talking when a hand touches his jaw, then cups it—tender and soft and sweeter than Nursey’s been touched in quite a while. His breath leaves his chest all at once, and his skin is hot and tingling where Chris is holding him.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Chris says.

And god _damn_ if Nursey doesn’t want to just die right there. But he has way better things to do besides dying. Like turning his head, and leaning in, and letting their lips meet. And it isn’t some knee-wobbling, world shaking kiss. It’s nervous because they’ve only known each other a couple hours. And it’s shy because they _are_ in public and who knows who might be watching.

But it has so much promise, and so much more to offer at a time when they can take more—when they can take as much as they want to give, and hold it close to their chests.

“You wanna get out of here?” Chris asks.

Nursey nods. “I’d invite you to mine, but…oyster guy.”

Chris laughs. “That’s fine. My place isn’t that bad. Millionaire and all.”

“I don’t know,” Nursey says, fake hesitation in his voice, even when he wants to jump up and yell because Chris has just reached between them and pushed their palms together. “Is it all full of Shark’s stuff?”

“Well,” Chris drawls as he stands up and pulls Nursey with him. “I have been a fan since I was a kid.”

They somehow manage to bang their stuff in the bins while still holding hands, then stroll over to where their cars are parked. And it’s a little absurd in a way, like some rom-com crap that Nursey tends to avoid just because they make him feel even more lonely with his sad dry pasta and jars of sauce. But the sky is grey behind them, and the wind his making Chris’ hair flutter in the breeze, and there’s the tang of ocean on the air current, and Chris is _still_ holding his hand.

“I guess I can make do,” he finally says.

Chris laughs, then puts one hand on the car, right next to Nursey’s hip. They’re nearly the same height, an inch or two of difference at best. And although Chris seems lanky, Nursey can feel dense muscle when he reaches up and puts his hand at Chris’ waist.

“Do you think TMZ is watching?”

“Well,” Chris says, shrugging just a little, “if they stuck around to watch us slurp noodles, I guess they’re owed a little something else. You wanna help them earn their paycheque?”

Nursey laughs, then reaches up to cup Chris’ cheek in his hand. He brushes his thumb over Chris’ sharp cheekbone, and shrugs. “I guess we should. Civic duty and all that.”

“Yeah,” Chris says, then leans in, and kisses him a second time.

This time, there’s no hesitation. Only warmth, and a little tongue, and a glimpse into a future that is a lot brighter than the foggy sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Gracie's shoes are basically [these ones](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLe7WuqwiKw) from this video. I'm both simultaneously sad and extremely grateful my kids never had shoes like this when they were small. Light-up trainers were annoying enough.


End file.
